So, this is the thing that me and @confunded-gryffindor wrote for the Valentines Day competition. This was so much fun to write (for me at least) and we hope it is angsty and gives you feels!! I wrote Remusā part, and Kim wrote Siriusā part. Happy Valentines, and enjoy!
Sirius was glaring at Walburga, she had summoned him to his fatherās office but now she wasnāt talking. Her expression is blank, but Sirius could tell that whatever she wanted to say isnāt good. Orion is swirling a glass of firewhiskey, grunting every once in a while as he reads through a stack of papers. The office is dark and grimy, only lit by two tall candles that stood perched upon Orionās desk. The air is thick, it almost feels damp and Sirius canāt really breathe properly.
āOkay, Iāve been sitting here for five minutes,ā Sirius says and cracks his knuckles. He can see Walburga cringing from the corner of his eye. āDid you want to talk or are we just going to have a staring competition?ā
āDonāt crack your knuckles like that, Sirius,ā Walburga hisses. āIāve been thinking about how to approach this.ā
Sirius runs his hands through his hair, āApproach what? You usually just beat the shit out of me.ā
Walburga shoots him a vicious glare that probably couldāve killed and starts twirling her wand between her fingers. Sirius immediately sits up straighter and keeps his eyes firmly on the wand, ready to leap out of the room before curses were thrown.
āDonāt speak to your mother like that,ā Orion grunts without looking up from his stack of papers.
āWhat did you want to speak about then?ā Sirius says with his eyes still on the wand.
āRegulus told us about something that happened last term at school,ā Walburga says and rises to her feet. She starts pacing around the room, still twirling her wand. āAbout you kissing some boy,ā She spits out the words as if they tastes sour. Siriusā heart stops beating for a split second. Shit, they know. This was the end, they were going to kill him or ship him off to Durmstrang. Or both.
āYou understand, of course, that this isnāt acceptable by any means for an heir,ā Walburga continues.
āI thought I mucked that up when I was sorted into Gryffindor,ā Sirius crosses his arms over his chest.
āQuiet, Sirius,ā Orion snaps, still not looking up. Walburga stops pacing right in front of Sirius.
āAs I was saying,ā she makes a show of twirling her wand again and Sirius bites his lip. āSeeing as you cannot produce an heir byā¦ Your habits, your father and I have decided that you will get married by the end of the summer,ā
Sirius gapes up at her. āWhat? Iām not even of age yet!ā
āWe have talked to the Minister and the Rosiers, and it is already arranged.ā
āYou canāt do that! I-ā¦ā Sirius feels himself go pale, or well, paler than he usually is. This was not happening.
āOf course we can. Ophelia is more than happy to be your wife,ā Sirius swallows hard, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. Ophelia Rosier, of course itās some wannabe Death Eater who is two years older than Sirius and looks like what bulldogs and a toad love child would look like.
āNo. I refuse,ā he says and stands upright. He stares down at Walburga. He only has a couple inches on her and heās probably more terrified of her than he is of anything else, but he stares down nonetheless.
āIf you donāt do this, Sirius,ā Walburga begins with her hissing, cold voice. āWe will reveal your habits withā¦ Lupin, was it? I believe Regulus told us he was a half-breed,ā
Sirius swallows again. He doesnāt want this, he canāt risk losing Remus. Not again. But if he doesnāt do it, on the other hand, Remusā entire life would be ruined. Sirius stares down at the floor and then gives a quick nod.
āFine,ā he grumbles . āSend an owl to whoever Iām marrying,ā And with that he leaves his fatherās office.
Sirius sits down by his desk with a quill in hand and a piece of parchment in front of him. He takes a deep breath and begins to write, tears stinging his eyes and hands shaking slightly.
Iām sorry about this, and thereās no good way of saying it so Iām just going to write it and you can be angry with me later.
Iām getting married. On the 14th. I know Iām only sixteen and there are laws and shit but I have to do this. I have to.
Iām so, so sorry. I canāt explain whatās going on in a letter, but I need you to know that I love you and I donāt really want this, but I have to.
You, Prongs and Wormy are welcome to the wedding, of course. I donāt give a shit about what my parents say about that.
Remus sits on the roof.
It was the same spot they always used, him and Sirius. That same spot, tucked out of sight from the ground, a small corner next to a tower. They used to spend hours there, talking and laughing and kissing, time slipping through their fingers like rain.
He should have savored it more, those precious, hidden moments.
The letter is crumpled in his hand, the ink splattered from where Sirius had hurriedly scrawled those damning words on the parchment.
Remus is far too high up to be drinking, but he does it anyways, swallowing the contents of the bottle in his hand. Heās not even sure where he got it, Marlene shoving it into his hand after seeing his shell-shocked expression. The alcohol burns his throat, clearing away some of the pain, rendering it all down into blissful numbness.
He supposed they had it coming. Sirius was noble, practically royalty in the wizarding world, heir to more riches than Remus could ever dream of. It was foolish of him, foolish to think that heād ever had a chance with him.
It was all he wanted, after all. A chance, to live out their lives together, where they wouldnāt have to hide, where they could control their own futures and not give a damn about what anybody else thought.
He takes another swig, the burning sensation filling his stomach. Sirius had said he loved him, in the letter, said that he didnāt want to do this. Maybe -
He leashes the thoughts. Sirius was Sirius. If he didnāt want to do something, he would have found a way to avoid it.
Remus had thought he had prepared for this, the knowledge that their relationship would some day come to an end. It was an unspoken truth between them - Sirius would be expected to find some girl to marry, and Remus would be expected to record himself in the Werewolf Register and die in some hole somewhere.
He just hadnāt expected it would come so soon.
It was always a secret, with them. They each had so much to lose, their own lives fucked up enough that they couldnāt risk it. He remembers talking to Sirius, whispered words under the bright stars.
āWe canāt tell anyone about this,ā he had said, winding strands of Siriusā hair around his finger. āWe canātā¦ I canāt - ā
Sirius frowned. āWhy?ā
Remus just laughed, shaking his head. āItāsā¦ itās hard. You wonāt understand.ā He sighed. āIām a werewolf, Pads. A goddamn werewolf, Iām already screwed enough as it is. If anyone found out I wasā¦that I lovedā¦.ā
Sirius nodded. āItās fine, Moons. I understand.ā He paused. āIām sure my family wouldnāt approve either. Seeing as they want me to produce a son to carry on the Black Name.ā
Remus had smiled at him, the moon like a halo around Siriusā head. āThank you.ā
He lets the memory fade, like a wisp of smoke, letting it filter out from between his fingers. It was over, between them. It was temporary, a passing fancy. It was time for them to grow up.
He sighs. He didnāt expect it to hurt so much.
The 14th came way too fast and the day of Siriusā wedding is a rainy one, ironically enough. Perhaps the Gods knew that this is the shittiest day in history.
First of all, Sirius is getting married to Ophelia fucking Rosier, and no makeup or charms can fix her bulldog-toad face and frizzy hair. Second of all, James, Remus and Peter are all sitting in the hall where the wedding is taking place and Sirius will have to look down on them as he is exchanging vows with someone whoās not a bloke ā more importantly, not a bloke named Remus Lupin. And third of all, Kreacher is clinging to Siriusā shoulder as he tries to tie a bow tie around Siriusā neck.
āWill Master Sirius Black stop pacing?ā Kreacher croaks angrily. āKreacher is trying to tie Masterās bow tie, sir.ā
Sirius reluctantly stops pacing and starts wringing his hands instead. Heās breathing heavily, almost panting, and the panic is gripping around his lungs with cold, hard hands. He canāt do this, he doesnāt want this, but heās got to. For Remus.
His head snaps up when he hears the door opening, and Regulus walks into the room. Sirius steps forward and wraps his arms around Regulus without a word. Regulus hugs back rather stiffly.
āYou look nice,ā Regulus says when they pull apart. āLike a proper pure-blood,ā He adds with a smirk. Sirius swats his hand.
āFuck off, I look like Father would do if he wore man buns,ā Sirius mutters and rubs his eyes. Regulus huffs out an awkward laugh.
āYou need to get out there,ā Regulus says. āItās about to start and I donāt think your friends can handle sitting with our family any longer.ā
Sirius nods, a small smile playing on his lips. āThatās very considerate of you, Reggie. Iāll be out in a minute, yeah?ā
Regulus nods and gives Siriusā shoulder a squeeze before walking out of the small room with Kreacher trailing after him, leaving Sirius panicking again. He takes a few deep breaths and looks at his reflection in the mirror. He looks stupid, with stuffy, dark green dress robes and way too shiny shoes, he was even forced to wear his old Black family ring that he hasnāt worn since he was ten. He really looks like his father.
He takes another deep breath and exits the room. He can hear the low hum of chatter from the all that grows louder as he walks closer. With his heart in his throat, Sirius pushes the door open and walks up to the altar.
Sirius almost wants to vomit at the sight, the entire hall is decorated in green and silver, and his entire family is sitting there looking as severe as ever. He sees his friends looking extremely out of place and he stares down at his feet instead and starts biting his lip. He canāt stand seeing Remus, sitting there and watching him with those beautiful eyes.
Maybe itās how Sirius looks, with his emerald robes and pale skin and eyes like a storm on the horizon. Maybe itās his hair, pinned up in a messy bun, the edges tumbling around his neck. Maybe itās just Sirius, and the knowledge that he was promised to another, that their time together had come to an end.
He remembers running his hands through the dark strands of Siriusā hair, slipping through his fingers, spilling out over his shoulders. It was a message, Sirius had told him. A sort of fuck-you to my bullshit parents. Ā
Remus wonders if the mused curls are a final rebellion. A final message, to his parents that already have taken so much from him, a message that they have not broken him.
Itās so classically Sirius, that hint of arrogance, and he feels his lips curve into a smile.
Beside him, James fidgets, running a hand down the collar of his stark white shirt. Remus knows he hates it in here, being under the same roof as the people who tortured Sirius, abused him for days on end. They stick to the other side, the aisle in the middle, haughty expressions and cold glances, dripping with jewels and other fabrics.
He wonders how Sirius could bear it, the weight of the glances and the cool dispassion they displayed. Sirius was always fighting, always burning, full of life and emotion, hurt and pain and comfort and love. These people were corpses, dead, cold things, like a layer of wet leaves over the fire that Sirius was.
James swears, low and vicious, his voice barely carrying over the noise of all the people. āJesus Christ, what the fuck is happening?ā
āI donāt know.ā Remus closes his eyes, just for a moment, before opening them again. Peter shifts in his seat, eyes dancing around the room. āI donāt know, Moony. I donāt think we are very welcome here.ā
āWell, fuck them. Weāre not here for them.ā James mutters, running his hand through his hair. It sticks up in sharp, pointy spikes, and Peter flattens them down.
Remus barely pays attention, his eyes returning to Sirius, standing by the altar. His face is pale, drained of blood, his lip bleeding from where he had bitten it. His hair floats around his face, a halo of darkness, and he looks terribly, beautifully young.
He remembers passing him, in that darkened hallway, before the ceremony. He had grabbed Sirius, wrist, the small bones grinding together in his arm, hard enough that Sirius had winced. āIs this what you want?ā
Sirius had flinched, a crack in that cool marble mask pasted onto his face. āDoes it matter?ā
Remus snorted. āFor Godās sake, Sirius. Youāre about to get married. To some girl that you said you didnāt even know. Of course it fucking matters.ā
He knew Sirius. You couldnāt love someone so fiercely, bare your soul to them, trust them to touch your heart without being able to hold theirs in return. Sirius was a master at hiding his feelings, was able to pull up that cold mask over his face in an instant, but Remus knew. He could see it in Siriusā eyes.
Sirius bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood. āYou know I could never. Love her like that.ā His voice dropped to a whisper. āBut I have to. I have to, Remus. And I canāt tell you why, and it kills me, but please. You need to trust me. You need to let me go.ā
Remusā voice was low. āI swear, if this is some self-sacrificing bullshit - ā
Sirius just gave him a small half-smile, barely a twitch of his lips. āYou know me too well.ā
He shook his head. āItās done, Remus. Itās done.ā Thereās that bitter twist to his lips, the mocking, sardonic smile as he wrenches his arm from Remusā grip, backs down the hall. āIāll see you when this is over.ā
The sound of a bell jolts Remus from his thoughts, and he swears. In front of him, Sirius gives a small jump, his face draining of colour and Remus bites his lip, hard. The organ starts to play, Sirius gripping the altar, and Remus releases a shaking breath as the wedding begins.
The organ starts playing and Sirius is vaguely aware of the heavy wooden doors opening with an echo on the opposite of the room. That cold hand is still gripping Siriusā lungs.
He catches Remusā eye, just for a second, and suddenly he canāt breathe at all. Forget the hand, someone just dropped multiple bowling balls on his chest. Remus looks as broken as Sirius feels, and he wishes he could just run away from everything.
Ophelia walks through the doors, led by her father. Sheās wearing an emerald green dress, just like Siriusā dress robes, and her hair is up in some fancy hairdo that wouldāve looked much better if Opheliaās hair wasnāt so frizzy. Sheās smiling, a bitter, cold smile that reminds Sirius way too much of Walburga. The urge to vomit is suddenly even worse. He swallows hard again and closes his eyes n an attempt to soothe the burning in his eyes.
When Sirius opens his eyes again, Ophelia is standing there. Her father and Orion are standing next to them, a few feet behind. Orion starts droning on about marriage, he mentions something about love and Sirius has to fight a snort of laughter, then he motions for Ophelia to start her vows.
āSirius,ā she says and Sirius prepares himself for the false declarations of love. āI canāt begin to explain how happy I am-,ā Sirius tunes her out, and in the corner of his eye he sees Remus stand up. James follows and they both walk towards the exit.
āI canāt do this,ā Sirius chokes out, louder than he anticipated. āIām sorry but I canāt do this,ā Both Remus and James stop walking.
āItās okay,ā Ophelia says softly with a small smile that doesnāt look as cold anymore. Sirius nods and smiles back, then he steps off the altar.
He canāt take it anymore.
Watching Sirius stare at Ophelia, knowing that he would be promised to her in a matter of minutes.
He hates himself. He knows itās selfish, running away from Sirius and the altar. Itās his best friendās wedding, it should be one of the happiest days of his life, and Remus was fleeing like a coward.
But all he can think about is Sirius, waking up in the middle of the evening, with those paralyzing nightmares. All he can think about are the scars on Siriusā back, the way they sometimes hurt when exposed to too much dark magic. The way he curled up whenever he got a letter from his parents, the way he froze sometimes when he caught sight of himself in the mirror, the way he bit his lip when trying to hold back a scream. It was those small things, the tiny things that Remus noticed, because when you loved someone, you noticed everything.
Ophelia wouldnāt know, how to comfort Sirius when he woke up screaming for Regulus to run. Ophelia wouldnāt know, when Sirius broke down crying because his scars burned like fire, how to comfort him. She couldnāt, because she didnāt know. Not like how Remus knew Sirius.
And it hurt. Badly, knowing that Sirius was promised to someone else.
The room started to spin, wildly, waves forming under his feet and he thinks he feels sick. Beside him, James grabs his arm, looking concerned. āRe. You good?ā
He shakes him off. āI just need air.ā
James nods, a look of pain passing over his face, then stands. āIāll come with you.ā
He knows they are making a commotion, knows that people are staring at him, but he really canāt bring himself to care as he stalks out of the reception room. The carpet is lush against his ankles, and he want to gag thanks to the stench of all the perfume, crawling down his throat.
James is pale too, shooting dirty looks at everyone, and he swears heās going to scream when he hears it.
Siriusā voice is quiet, but steady, and there is something like hope in Remusā chest as he turns around. Sirius is standing there, something like pain in his eyes, and Remus takes a deep breath.
Sirius swallows. Hard. Beside him, Walburga stands. āGet out of this wedding immediately - ā
Remus shakes his head, still staring at Sirius. āWith all due respect, Walburga, this is between your son and me.ā
āIf you do not leave - ā
Remus holds up a hand. āIāll leave if he asks me to.ā
The silence stretches out between them, as he stares into Siriusā eyes. Remus gives him a small smile. āWill you ask me to?ā
Sirius comes closer, so much closer, almost shoving Walburga aside in his hurry. He hasnāt been this close to Sirius in ages, ever since he had gotten that letter ages ago. He looks paler, thinner, drawn and tired, but those grey eyes still shone like they always did.
Remus catches his breath, feeling Sirius, hands on his neck. āWill you?ā
Sirius doesnāt know what to reply with, so he just shakes his head, grips the collar of Remusā shirt and pulls his face down to his level. And kisses him. Hard. Remus cups the back of Siriusā neck and twists his fingers in the stray locks that had fallen out of Siriusā bun, just like he always does.
He can hear gasps of disgust and surprise. He can hear Walburga screeching insults. But he doesnāt care. He doesnāt care because he has Remus there.
Remus who knows how to comfort him after nightmares, when heās supposed to touch Sirius or not. Remus who knows exactly what do say at any time. Remus who knows how to make everyone laugh. Remus whoās exactly as self-sacrificing as Sirius but a thousand times better in any other way. Remus whoās grumpy until noon, who drinks disgustingly milky tea, who crinkles his nose when he reads and who manages to find oversized sweaters even though heās a giant.
Their kiss is sloppy with slightly too much teeth but it doesnāt matter. Because this is what Sirius wants. All he wants.
When they pull apart, Sirius is pretty sure that heās crying, but grinning widely at the same time. Remus looks breathless and heās smiling, his hand still resting on the back of Siriusā neck. Both James and Peter let out whoops of joy and Sirius snorts.
āSirius,ā Walburga hisses. āWhat do you think youāre doing?ā
āIām kissing my boyfriend, Mother. What does it look like Iām doing?ā Sirius finally takes a step back, but instead of facing Walburga, he extends an arm to Remus. āShall we leave, my dearest?ā
Remus grins and links their arms together. āThat we shall,ā
Heās never kissed Sirius like this.
Theyāve always been controlled in the past, ready to step away at a momentās notice. Lips brushing, barely a whisper between them, hidden in some corridor or on the astronomy tower. It was always a secret between them, had always been.
And now heās kissing Sirius, in front of his homophobic, pure-blooded family, in front of James and Peter, in front of people who could ruin his life in an instant and he doesnāt give a damn.
Sirius tastes like he always does, bitter and sweet, soft lips and gentle hands, and theyāre 15 all over again, their first kiss under the tree by the river, shaking hands and trembling bodies. He thinks Sirius is crying, can feel tears rolling down his face, and all he can do is press Sirius tighter, press them tighter, molding them together until they become one.
Dimly, heās aware of the noise, Peter and James cheering and Walburga yelling, the uneasy murmurs of the crowd behind him, sounds of scraping chairs and people leaving the room, and he doesnāt care.
Itās messy but perfect, and heās smiling as he steps away. Walburgaās mouth hangs open like a fish, opening and closing, and Sirius just raises an eyebrow. āIām kissing my boyfriend, Mother. What does it look like Iām doing?ā he says, and Remus realizes he missed part of the conversation. Heās in some sort of daze, lost in a fog of happiness, and heās aware of Sirius extending an arm to him. āShall we leave, dearest?ā
Remus nods. āThat we shall.ā
Outside, itās cold, the wind whipping at the bushes, rain splattering down their cheeks as Remus pulls Sirius into another kiss. āWell, that was perfect timing.ā
Sirius just shrugs. āCouldnāt go through with it.ā He pauses. āAre you okay?ā
Remus nods. āIām okay. Actually, fuck that. Iām the happiest Iāve ever been in my life.ā He hesitates. āAre you sure youāll be fine though? Back at home?ā
Sirius scoffs, stubbing his foot into the ground. āWhat more can they do to me? Iāll be fine.ā
Remus just smiles, resting his head on Siriusā shoulder. āHappy Valentines, Pads.ā
Sirius laughs. āHappy Valentines, Re. Hopefully, next years will be a little less exciting.ā
